


Show Me What You Got

by JuxtaposeFantasy



Category: Chinese Actor RPF, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, crunking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:28:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23421718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuxtaposeFantasy/pseuds/JuxtaposeFantasy
Summary: Wang Yibo makes a dumb decision and is a sloppy drunk. Xiao Zhan cleans up the mess.
Relationships: Wang Yi Bo/Trainee, Wang Yi Bo/Xiao Zhan
Comments: 26
Kudos: 306





	Show Me What You Got

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by the video of Yibo crunking at the YH family meeting, aka the Cursed Video. I think it's pretty hot, so I wanted to write about it, although it probably could have been a better fic. This one is a bit of a throwaway. Mostly I wanted to write about Yibo being drunk, haha.

“Wang Yibo,” calls the dancer across from him. He’s young and handsome, a newbie in YH, just one of dozens that Yibo can’t keep track of. It seems like a new idol group debuts every month. “You’re dancing like you’re asking for it tonight.”

There are oohs from the guys standing in a loose circle around them. Catcalls and whistles. Yibo grins at the attention. That’s what he’s here for.

“And you dance like you have no idea how to give it,” he shoots back from over his shoulder as he turns and slaps his ass at the other man.

The calls are louder, mocking hoots raining down on the dancer that Yibo dissed. Yibo laughs, still dancing, getting raunchy with his moves now. He’s got the attention of the young dancer, who’s taking the ribbing in stride, his eyes hungry as they watch Yibo krumping. The heat in Yibo is centered in his groin and it grows hotter as the other dancer winks at him.

It’s a safe space. Yibo wouldn’t be drunk and dancing so explicitly if it weren’t. The party is unofficial—held in someone’s house—but the invitation list has been limited to male Yuehua trainees who share the same interest as him. The same secret.

Idols hooking up with each other is par for the course. Everyone is young and good-looking, everyone physically fit. No one is allowed to date girls, so they find a different outlet for all the hormones surging through their bodies. Some stick to self-pleasure, others begin to experiment. Dozens of hot young guys locked in the same dormitory leads to horsing around. It’s an easy next step to fooling around.

Yibo has done it and so has every guy in this room, so there’s no danger of being outed. And besides, from the moment Yibo walked through the front door he has been the most powerful person in the house. If it came to his word versus one of these newbies’, his would always win out and his accuser’s career would be finished. He is safe, and that is why he is here. 

To let it all out.

To forget, for a few hours, that he’s been rejected elsewhere.

Being senior in a group is a new experience and he likes it. He’s famous here. Admired. Being the best dancer is only part of his appeal and for once, he welcomes the lust aimed at him and doesn’t pretend he’s not aware of it. When he looks out at the guys clapping along to the beat, he reads their hunger and their desire for him. They cheer on his moves, but he can tell they’re checking out his body, the shape of his face, the sweat sliding down his neck, and the abs he keeps flashing because why not? He’s hot and he knows it. He’s merely giving them what they want. And they _all_ want it.

“Gege’s just too much,” the young dancer says, slowing down and making a show of fanning his face with his hands. He’s got a strong jaw and great hair. He’s taller than Yibo with about the same build. A decent dancer, but Yibo has mopped the floor with him. Yibo hopes this cocky young dancer wants a bit of revenge.

“Kids these days are too weak,” Yibo crows, and laughs as he receives good-natured boos. He slows down, too, and steps back to allow other dancers to step up and battle in his place. His entire body is drenched in sweat and his hair is mussed. He knows exactly what he looks like to these young dancers.

_Bring it on._

After a smirk sent at his young rival, Yibo walks away. Someone shoves a shot at him, which he swallows automatically (number five? Or six?) He high-fives other dancers, fields their compliments and the adoration in their eyes. He doesn’t want to be worshipped, though, so he keeps walking, a little crookedly as the alcohol burrows deeper into his system. The music is loud in the living room so he can’t tell if the young dancer is following him as he walks down the hallway to the bedrooms, loose-limbed, hips rolling in a swagger. He rubs the front of his jeans, encouraging the hardness there.

The host has already told him that there’s a room reserved for him if he wants to use it. He heads there now, horny and growing hornier as he imagines the young dancer coming up behind him. As he opens the door, he feels the presence he’d hoped to.

“Wang Yibo?”

The question is whispered. Slightly fearful, yet brimming with excitement.

“Come in,” he murmurs and steps inside, stumbling a little. He leaves it for the young dancer to shut the door behind him, which he does.

Yibo hasn’t taken three steps before he’s pulled back by the shoulder and pushed against the door. He opens his mouth to laugh but doesn’t get the chance. The mouth on his is demanding and nearly brutal with lust. It swallows Yibo’s moan before he’s conscious of releasing it.

The young dancer’s hands are all over him. It’s frantic and a little wild. For a second Yibo wonders if this is the guy’s first time. Then all thoughts go out the window when he’s palmed through his jeans. His moan is whore-ish but he doesn’t care.

The young dancer isn’t shy to take what he wants. After squeezing Yibo for half a minute and learning the shape of him through the denim, he yanks the button fly open enough for him to thrust his hand inside.

“Shit!” Yibo gasps as he arches off the door.

His mouth is smothered again and all the sounds he makes are kept between them as the young dancer jerks him with a sweaty but confident hand. It’s fast and intense. Yibo pulls at the other guy’s shirt, needing something to hold onto because he feels like he’s being attacked by a tornado.

“That’s it,” the young dancer growls against Yibo’s lips and finally breaks away to kiss feverishly down the side of his throat. “Gonna make you cum, Yibo. Wanna make you moan for me.”

Yibo is dizzy with alcohol and hormones. He shouldn’t have accepted that last shot. This is moving a lot faster than he’s ready for but he’s not sure he’s prepared to call a stop to it. He should want this, he reminds himself as the dancer’s other hand dives down the back of his sagging jeans. _Everyone wants me. Here’s the proof. This kid doesn’t even know me and he’s desperate for me--_

The bite to his trapezius shocks him sober. It isn’t hard enough to pierce the skin but he has enough experience with love bites to know that this one is going to leave a mark. And suddenly, everything is crystal clear.

“Stop,” he gasps.

The hand around his cock tightens and he gasps and bucks into it instinctively.

“Come on, Yibo,” the young dancer pants against his throat, “it’s just getting good.”

But his shoulder stings and it’s something he can’t ignore. He can’t ignore _any_ of this. He shoves the younger dancer.

It’s not a violent push, but the young dancer is as drunk as he. The kid staggers back before tripping over his own feet and falling onto his backside. He stares up at Yibo with glazed eyes. He’s panting like an animal and looks ready to get up and attack Yibo again.

“I have to—I have to go,” Yibo mumbles and then he’s spinning and fumbling for the door knob. He finds it and twists, falls out into the hallway and nearly knocks himself out when he crashes into the opposite wall. With a pained grunt, he claws upright and staggers down the hall.

He can’t remember if he brought anything but he can’t stick around to check. He turns away from the music and the voices and that’s how he finds the front door. The cold night air blasts him in the face when he bursts outside.

He just starts walking. He isn’t sure how he got here in the first place but if he arrived on his motorcycle he’s in no condition to ride it anyway. So he walks down the street, in the middle where the lights are because he thinks that if he enters the shadows he might fall and no one will find him.

He’s two blocks down, heading nowhere, when his jeans tangle and he trips. He looks down and discovers his pants are still open and halfway down his thighs. Cursing, he drags them up and fists them in one hand. As he does so, something falls out of a pocket and clatters on the asphalt.

His phone.

Swaying, he tries to decide what he should do, who he should call.

“Yixuan,” he mumbles. “Xuan-ge will help.”

When he reaches down for his phone, though, he tips forward, unbalanced, and somersaults onto the road. On his back, he stares up at the stars in bewilderment.

“What the hell?”

He turns his head and his phone is right there. He slaps a hand on it and drags it over. He has to close his eyes for several seconds before he can hold up the phone and activate it. He blindly presses his thumb to his contact list over the ‘X’ entries.

“Xuan-ge,” he says into the receiver as it rings. “Come get me.”

Someone answers.

“What is it, Yibo?”

The voice is cool enough to make him flinch where he’s lying on pavement.

“Xuan-ge,” he says, unsure why his UNIQ friend sounds this way. “Need—come get me. Can’t—I don’t know where my bike is. Where I am.”

A beat. Then the voice is back, no longer cool. “Yibo? What’s going on?”

“Come get me,” he sighs as he closes his eyes. “Don’t wanna dance anymore. No more kissing.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Mmm.”

“Jesus, Yibo. I can’t believe you called me—”

“Can’t ride…”

“Obviously. Where are you?”

“I dunno. The floor. Stars.”

“You’re on the floor?”

“Not th’floor. Road,” he clarifies. “Not riding. Laying here. Don’t drink ‘n’ drive.” He rubs sloppily at his face, nearly pokes an eye out. “Come get me, Xuan-ge.”

“I’m not—never mind. Who knows where you are? Who’s with you?”

“No one.” He giggles. “Trainee. Thought he was so hot…” He frowns, remembering something. He touches his shoulder and blurts, “Ow.”

“Yibo, you’re alone? Where? Give me something.”

“Tried to give you something.” Yibo grins wide and opens his eyes again. “You said no.” His grin fades. “Zhan-ge doesn’t want me.”

“At least you know who I am now. God, Yibo.” Xiao Zhan sighs—why does Xiao Zhan have Yixuan’s phone?—and says, “Don’t move, okay? Stay where you are. Wait, you said you’re in the road?”

“Not riding. Don’t drink and—”

“Right, okay, that’s good, but you can’t lay in the middle of the road. Can you get up? Try to get up for me, Bo-di.”

“Bo-di,” Yibo whispers. His eyes begin to water. “Zhan-ge calls me that.”

“That’s because I’m—never mind. Zhan-ge is telling you to get up and get out of the road. Do it, Yibo.”

He continues to lie there, thinking he might just go to sleep.

“Yibo!”

The yell shocks him coherent.

“Get up and get out of the road!”

Yibo rolls onto his side and then onto all fours. His mouth floods with saliva. The sweat covering his body turns to ice.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

“Oh, god. Okay, if you have to. Go ahead. Don’t—don’t get any on yourself.”

Yibo laughs but it makes his stomach clench and suddenly he’s throwing up and there’s nothing he can do about it. It feels like his entire insides are coming out. When he’s finally done, he’s light-headed and weak.

“Zhan-ge,” he whimpers in misery.

“Yibo,” says Xiao Zhan gently, “Baby, you’re okay. Now crawl away. Get to the side of the road.”

Yibo obeys, scraping his knuckles on the road since he doesn’t want to let go of the phone and Xiao Zhan’s voice. When he reaches the side of the road, he finds a yard there. He throws himself on the patch of small, smooth pebbles and sighs. He feels better now that he’s vomited.

“I’m okay,” he says into the phone. “In a yard. Feels good.”

“Yibo, I need you to do something for me. Will you do something for me?”

“Is Zhan-ge still mad at me?” he asks in a small voice.

Xiao Zhan sighs heavily. “We’ll talk about it later, Yibo. Right now I’m not mad at you. I just want you to be safe. Let me make you safe, Bo-di.”

He sniffs. Tears burn his eyes. “I never wanted you to be mad at me. You mean so much to me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m bad.”

“Oh, Yibo. You’re not—you’re not bad. You just had bad timing. And I—overreacted. Badly. I didn’t realize you’re this sensitive. We’ll talk about it, okay? I promise everything will be okay. Just help me come to you. Don’t you want me to come to you?”

He wipes a hand across his eyes. “Yes.”

“Okay, then help me find you. What’s around you? Any signs?”

He rolls onto his side and lifts onto an elbow. He doesn’t know where he is. Why is he in a yard? Whose house is this? He squints across the street. Besides houses, he sees the colorful lights of a sign.

“Shan Shan,” he says proudly.

“Good, that’s a start. There’s a Shan Shan on every corner, though, so what about other signs?”

“Mister Yoshina Electronics,” he reads out.

“Perfect! Okay, I’ll look that up. Hold on, Yibo. Don’t hang up and don’t move.”

“’kay.” He drops back down and closes his eyes. He can hear music, faintly, though he can’t tell from where. It sounds familiar, though.

A minute later, Xiao Zhan comes back on the line. “I’ve found it. Stay put, okay, Bo-di? Do _not_ move. Promise me. Promise your gege.”

He scrunches up his face as emotion swamps him. “I want to be good for my gege. I only want to be good. I’m sorry, Zhan-ge. I’m sorry for everything.”

“I know you are,” Xiao Zhan says softly. “I’m not mad at you, okay? I wasn’t to begin with. Don’t cry. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Promise me you’ll stay where you are and let me come hold you.”

Yibo sniffs again. “Promise. Hurry, Zhan-ge. I’m so cold.”

“You really know how to get me, don’t you, didi? Okay, sit tight. I’ll be right there. In fact, don’t hang up. Keep talking to me while I come for you.”

Yibo hums noncommittally. He only wants to sleep. His head has stopped spinning but he’s tired down to his bones.

“I danced tonight,” he says as he remembers parts of the battle.

“Where’d you dance?” Xiao Zhan’s voice sounds farther away and a little hollow.

“I dunno.”

“Who’d you dance with?”

“Trainees.” He grins. “I beat them all.”

“Of course you did, Yibo. You’re the best dancer of all.”

Yibo pouted. “But you’re mad at me.”

A sigh. The sound of electronic beeps and then an engine starting. “I’m not mad. It’s complicated. You caught me at a bad time. I wasn’t in the mood. I can’t always be in the mood, you know, even though you’re you.”

“I’m not enough for Zhan-ge,” Yibo says softly, digging through his muddy memories of earlier. “You didn’t want me to touch you. Didn’t even want to look at me.” His eyes brim with tears again. “I’m ugly.”

“You _cannot_ be serious right now. You’re so handsome I can barely stand it, Yibo. That wasn’t the issue. I just—was feeling a bit down, I guess. I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on you like you deserve.”

“I deserve Zhan-ge.”

“You deserve Zhan-ge when he’s not in a pissy mood. I shouldn’t have turned you down the way I did. It was thoughtless. I’m sorry that I was accidentally cruel to you.”

“I thought you stopped wanting me,” Yibo whispers.

“No one could ever stop wanting you, Yibo. Especially not me. You’re the best thing in my life, believe me.”

“But tonight…”

“Tonight I was dealing with—okay, here’s the truth.” Xiao Zhan groans as though the admission is being torn from his depths. “I was feeling shitty because I read a post where your fans were deciding what your perfect girlfriend should be like. They said things like she needs to be shorter than you, love to dance, like motorcycles, love to play with toys and act silly—” His sigh is defeated. “They were describing someone who isn’t me, not in any way, and it depressed me and had me second-guessing myself. So tonight when you came to me, wanting whatever kinky sex you wanted, I felt like I was someone you’d had to settle for. I felt like someone who’s been wasting your time when you should be with someone better suited for you. So I was curt and I left you with the wrong impression. I’m sorry, Yibo. I’m sorry I drove you out of the house thinking that you did something wrong. You didn’t.”

It’s a lot of words at once and Yibo loses track a few times but he thinks he understands the gist of what Xiao Zhan has said. “You don’t like kinky sex?”

Xiao Zhan’s laughter fills his ear. It makes him smile.

“I most definitely do, but that’s a conversation for later. Right now, let’s concentrate on getting you home. I need my boyfriend home safe and sound.”

“Boyfriend.” Yibo stares up at the stars. He begins to cry.

“Yibo, what’s wrong?!”

“I did a bad thing,” he says, hiccupping. “I’m so bad. Don’t come get me. Zhan-ge deserves more than me.”

“Fuck, you’re scaring me. Don’t move, Yibo. I’m nearly there.”

The phone slips out of Yibo’s fingers and hits him in the chest before sliding off. He lets his arm flop down. He’s so tired. So, so tired.

He wakes up to someone shaking him by the arms.

“Yibo.” Xiao Zhan is bent over him, his face shadowed by the streetlamps behind him. But Yibo can still see the worry on his face.

Yibo lifts a hand toward him, pouts when Xiao Zhan catches it before it can touch his face.

“You’re filthy,” Xiao Zhan says. “But you’re alive and that’s all that matters.”

Yibo’s eyes are crusty and his mouth tastes awful. “You came.”

“Of course I did.” But Xiao Zhan’s face is pinched and his eyes keep flicking down Yibo’s body. “Yibo, I need you to tell me something. I won’t get mad, okay? Just tell me the truth.”

Yibo closes his eyes. “’kay.”

“Did someone—did someone hurt you? Did they—did they touch you?”

The question is so strange that Yibo has to open his eyes again. “What?”

He feels a tug on his jeans. “They’re half off you, Yibo.” Xiao Zhan swallows loudly enough that Yibo can hear it. “And here…”

Yibo hisses as Xiao Zhan’s finger traces something high on his shoulder near his neck.

“What is it?” he asks, panicked.

Xiao Zhan stared at him grimly. “It’s a bite mark, Yibo. Did someone attack you? Did they get you drunk, or drug you?”

Yibo curls a hand over his face. He wants to die. “I danced with the Yuehua trainees.”

Xiao Zhan is silent beside him.

“No one did anything to me,” Yibo whispers. “I went there to be bad.”

He listens to Xiao Zhan breathing for what seems like forever. Then he’s being tugged to sit up and from there he’s hauled to his feet.

“Let’s go home,” Xiao Zhan says in a voice Yibo can’t read.

He lets himself to be half-dragged to Xiao Zhan’s car and lowered into the back seat. A blanket drapes over his body. Xiao Zhan has brought a blanket because Yibo had said he was cold. Yibo curls up tight in it, drowning in guilt, and escapes into the darkness of unconsciousness.

~~~~~~

He wakes up with the sun shining in his eyes and striping warm across his naked body. With a groan, he rolls onto his side and buries his face in the pillow. It’s a pillow that smells like Xiao Zhan. It smells like home.

He squeezes the pillow tight, aware of how precious it is and how lucky he is to have it. But he doesn’t understand _why_ he’s allowed to experience it after what he’s done.

“How are you feeling?”

The mattress beside him dips beneath a weight. Fingers card through his hair. If he were a cat, he would be purring.

“I thought I’d feel worse,” he admits.

“Purging all the alcohol probably helped with that,” Xiao Zhan says. “I made you drink a lot of water before you went to sleep, too. That helped you avoid a hangover.”

Yibo cracks an eye open. “Thank you, Zhan-ge. Are you the reason I’m clean, too? Did you brush my teeth for me?”

“Believe it or not, you did that on your own. You were a mess. You refused to ‘contaminate our love nest’ so I managed to hold you up while you washed in the shower. It wasn’t easy. You’re very slippery.”

“I called this our ’love nest’? No way.”

“You really said that. It was cute.”

Xiao Zhan doesn’t look upset. He doesn’t appear to be mad. The fingers in Yibo’s hair are gentle.

“I wanted to wash off everything that had happened,” Yibo admits quietly. 

Xiao Zhan’s hand leaves Yibo’s hair and trails down the side of his face to his neck and then to his shoulder. He runs a fingertip over his skin where the young trainee had bit him.

“How far did you go with him?” Xiao Zhan asks.

“We kissed.” Yibo takes a deep breath and faces the music. “He put his hands in my pants.”

“Practically tore them off you,” Xiao Zhan remarks mildly.

Yibo isn’t sure how to interpret his mood. 

“He bit me and that’s when I stopped him. I left.” Yibo searches Xiao Zhan’s face for understanding. “I knew it was wrong, Zhan-ge. I knew I’d made a mistake. I left right away.”

“You probably left your bike there.”

“I didn’t care. I had to get away.”

“Why did you go there in the first place, Yibo?” Xiao Zhan’s mouth is soft, his eyes downturned at the corners. He normally embodies everything happy and playful, but today Yibo sees only pain in him.

“I was stupid and childish,” Yibo replies honestly. “I thought that if you didn’t want me, I’d find someone who did. It was—I guess it was revenge.” His chest muscles constrict. It hurts to breathe. “You would be right if you want to break up with me.”

“I know you, Yibo. You weren’t trying to hurt me. You don’t have a single malicious bone in your body.” Xiao Zhan sighs. “I think you were hurt. Your ego was bruised. And maybe…maybe you were nervous and feeling like I’m feeling right now.” He offers a smile that wobbles as though it’s hanging on by a thread. “Like you’re afraid this will blow up when it doesn’t need to.”

“It doesn’t?” Yibo looks up hopefully.

“I don’t think it does.” Xiao Zhan strokes his cheek. “Will you forgive me for the way I treated you last night?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Yibo says quickly as he rises onto an elbow. “You have the right to turn me down. I have to learn that I can’t always get my way. I have to compromise.”

Xiao Zhan’s smile melts over Yibo’s skin like sweet butter. “That’s something we both need to learn to do.”

“And I want to talk to you about what you read last night. The thing that got you so upset.”

Embarrassment steals over Xiao Zhan’s features. He palms the back of his neck. “No, forget about it. I’m over it. It just caught me at a vulnerable moment.”

Yibo clasps his hand in his. “I hate that it made you feel insecure, Zhan-ge. Never listen to what strangers have to say about what’s best for me or for you. They don’t know anything about us.”

Xiao Zhan nods and studies how their hands fit together. “You’re right.”

“You’re handsome and smart and kind. Your voice is beautiful and you’re a wonderful actor. I love everything about you. I’d give up everything for you, but I wouldn’t give you up for anything.”

“Aw, so poetic, Yibo.” Xiao Zhan laughs, his eyes crinkling. “That’s nice. Thank you. I believe you, and I feel the same way.”

“Do you—do you forgive me for going out?”

“For going out? Yes.” Xiao Zhan taps his chin and pretends to think about it. “For making out with another guy? _That_ we’ll work out.”

“Work out?” Yibo sits upright, thankful that he experiences nothing worse than a minor headache as he does so. “What does that mean?”

Xiao Zhan just shrugs, but there’s a point of clarity in his eyes that tells Yibo he knows exactly what he wants.

“Whatever it is, I’ll do it,” Yibo promises. 

“No, Yibo. You just need to lay back and… _take it!_ ”

Yibo yelps, startled, as Xiao Zhan tackles him backward to the bed. Once on his back, he expects Xiao Zhan to kiss him, but the older man crawls over him, slotting between Yibo’s legs, and grinds against him.

“This is punishment?” Yibo pants, though he’s hardly complaining.

Xiao Zhan laces their fingers together and holds Yibo’s hands down beside his head. “No punishment, but I need to send a message, Bo-di.”

With a flash of a grin, he dives down to Yibo’s collarbones and seals his lips over his skin. Yibo gasps as Xiao Zhan sucks hard on it.

“You’re going to leave a mark!”

“Damn right, I am,” Xiao Zhan murmurs as he pauses to inspect his work. “No one marks you but me. This body belongs to _me_.”

He attacks Yibo again, this time covering the patch of skin that the young dancer had bit last night. The suction is a small pain that makes Yibo twist his hips to rub his hardening cock against Xiao Zhan’s.

“You’re going to make me cum,” he moans.

Xiao Zhan’s eyes are dark with satisfaction. “That’s the idea.”

They grind together while Xiao Zhan sucks love bites over his shoulders and collarbones. Yibo is surprised by how much he gets off on Xiao Zhan being territorial. His cock _throbs_ with each suck, and in no time he’s on the verge of coming.

“I’m yours, Zhan-ge,” he gasps as he rises toward the peak. “And you’re mine. We don’t need anyone else.”

Flushed, his eyes shining, Xiao Zhan kisses him on the jaw. “Exactly.”

He rocks hard atop Yibo as they kiss, while Yibo locks his ankles behind Xiao Zhan’s thighs to keep him tight. He thrusts his tongue into Xiao Zhan’s mouth, staking his own claim, and it seems to push a button for Xiao Zhan. He groans before his body begins shuddering atop Yibo’s. The rush of damp heat against his groin pushes Yibo over, too. He gasps into Xiao Zhan’s mouth as he joins him in release.

As they lay together afterward, Yibo idly runs his fingers over his own upper body.

“I’ll have to be choosy with photoshoots now that you’ve mauled me,” he murmurs.

“I wouldn’t mind if you went around wearing a tank top.”

Yibo laughs and slaps him lightly on the butt. “Property of Xiao Zhan, is that it?”

Before Xiao Zhan can stop him, Yibo lifts his head and sucks a hickey into the base of Xiao Zhan’s neck. He releases him with a loud smacking sound.

“There. Property of Wang Yibo,” he declares.

Xiao Zhan narrows his eyes. “Yibo, you did that where people will be able to see it. _Now_ you’ve earned a proper punishment.”

Yibo grins, content. “Bring it, Zhan-ge. Show me what you’ve got.”


End file.
